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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26961601">April 17th</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ukulelelovinggal/pseuds/Ukulelelovinggal'>Ukulelelovinggal</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carol (2015), Carol 2015, The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:41:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,101</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26961601</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ukulelelovinggal/pseuds/Ukulelelovinggal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A deep dive into that fateful night.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Therese</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>April 17th</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Therese</strong>
</p><p>The taxicab was cram jam packed with overlapping hilarity from Friday night happy friends on their way to Phil’s party.  What was better than getting together for some drinks, snacks, exchanging work war stories and tales of dating horrors.  Throw in some gossip, a soupçon of current events and the eternal question of whether or not their beloved Brooklyn Dodgers would ever defeat the hated NY Yankees in a world series and your Friday night was set. </p><p>Therese was occupying her usual spot at the edge of the group pushed up against the cab’s back door.  Even if she had been seated in the middle of the chaos she still would have been hovering on the edge. Her usual m.o. was to quietly observe with an occasional smile/nod to indicate she was still there.  Not wanting to be rude or standoffish she even dropped a bon  mot once in a while just to throw a jolt into people’s perception of her.  But tonight was different.  She really wasn’t with her friends now.  She’d just seen Carol.</p><p>She had seen Carol.  The unknowable universe that was wrapped in those words.  Theres’s life was divided into the sepia tinted Before Carol, the technicolor After Meeting Carol, and the gray barren wasteland that was Post After Carol.  In reflection, Therese viewed her BC life as if she were a paper doll.  She was placed, posed, and directed by others.  She was one-dimensional in following the path others had set for her.  Her mother had discarded her to an orphanage when Therese became an impediment to her search for an ideal life.  The fact that Therese had been willingly abandoned rather than the result of a sympathetic tragedy gave her the script she needed to follow.  Eight-year-old shy spindly Therese concluded that the less she exposed herself to others the less she risked people knowing her mother’s shaming rejection.  Somewhere in Therese’s very protected heart she knew something wasn’t right with her mother but she could never come up with an answer that resonated as true or lasting so she just lived in her own world and fulfilled others’ expectations as needed. Sometimes it surprised her how much she could be hidden while others beamed smiles at her for presenting what they wanted to see.</p><p>Then there was Carol.  Therese had no words.  She had looked across the pandemonium of Christmas fueled children dragging harried drab mothers to and fro and saw someone she had no context for comprehending. The beauty, the purposeful stare, the stance, the attire, the whole image sent a shock through Therese she had never experienced or even knew existed.  She did know one thing and one thing only.  She could not look away.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Carol</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Abby picked up the phone after it’s first ring.  She had been anxiously waiting any word from Carol about how the “tea” had gone.</p><p>”God dammit Abby I can’t believe I let you talk me into this disastrous hare-brained idea.  I knew it wouldn’t work. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to your cockamamie notions about how Therese just needed to hear from me and our lives would fall into place and all the rest of your happily ever after nonsense.”</p><p>When Carol finally took a breath Abby gripped her phone’s receiver and spontaneously decided on a humorous approach.</p><p>”Who is this?”</p><p>It didn’t work.  Carol went from angry words to spluttering apoplexy.</p><p>”Okay, okay Carol. Let’s just slow down and take some deep breaths and then you can let me know what happened in a way I can understand.”</p><p>The pause was all Carol needed for her anger to start deflating and her sorrow to return and begin filling all the spaces in her life.  She had thought Therese was just a slice of her life until she was gone.  She was not prepared for the continuous memories and reminders that haunted her day and night.  And oh, the nights were so awful.  She often curled fetal like in her bed and sobbed when the phone rang and then even more when it didn’t.</p><p>“Babe, talk to me.”</p><p>The long sigh more than Carol’s anger told Abby all she needed to know.  Tea at the Ritz had not gone well in a devastating way.  Her forever best friend was crushed.  Abby had been on call for months and had witnessed Carol at her lowest but this night might plumb new depths.</p><p>With a shaky voice Carol began to tell her friend in stream of conscious waves what had happened.</p><p>”Oh Abs, she looked so fine.  Everything about her was so grown up and sophisticated. New haircut, stylish professional outfit, makeup, jewelry and I was just overwhelmed when I came to the table.  Therese could always rattle me when I didn’t know what was really happening with us.  But tonight I did know.  I had my memories and I knew what she meant to me and there she was in the flesh.  But everything about her said ‘no, not again’.  I was so raw and exposed to her that even when she turned down my offered cigarette I was devastated.  Abby it was embarrassing how needy I was.  I just kept throwing out lifelines and she would calmly swim away.  ‘Move in with me, come to dinner’...all of it was  just so pitiful.”</p><p>Carol paused and took a deep breath.  “I even told her I loved her.”</p><p>Abby involuntarily gasped.  “Oh babe.  What did she do?”</p><p>”I’ll never know what she was going to do for sure because some man named <em>Jack </em>began to holler across the room at Therese.  It seems he was part of her group of friends who were all going to some party tonight. He wanted to know if she was going and if she wanted a ride. He sucked the air out of the room.  Poor Therese was trying to respond to him in some coherent way and at the same time looking at me in bewilderment.  She tried to be polite and introduced us and then he wanted to know if I was going to the party and I said no and I told them to go ahead and have a good time and on and on.  I know I’m imagining but I think Therese was a little stunned by my confession.  It didn’t matter though because the moment was gone and then so was I.  </p><p>Abby experienced a rare moment of speechlessness. She truly did not know what to say.  The evening had been like a fiasco drama that was SRO with a long run on Broadway.  Finally she decided maybe her presence was the best response.  </p><p>“Do you want me to come over?”</p><p>”Thanks darling, but no.  I have this dinner tonight at the Oak Room with some old college friends.  It’s the last thing I want to do but I don’t want to bail at the last minute.  Besides, dinner and drinks will delay the night that is ahead of me.  Oh Abs, what am I going to do?”</p><p>Abby’s heart broke for her friend.  The disappointment in Carol’s marriage, the aloofness and snobbery of her in-laws, the total disregard and disrespect of Carol by both Harge and his parents, even the battle for Rindy had not brought her this low.</p><p>”Okay, but Carol please let me come over tomorrow.  We’ll go for a ride and do whatever feels good. I know it’s devastating and there’s a journey ahead of you but we will get through this.  I promise.”  Abby hoped her friend could find some comfort in the words that Abby wasn’t really sure of herself.</p><p>”Alright darling.  Come over tomorrow whenever you want.”</p><p>Carol’s breathing became tremulous and close to tears.  Abby wanted to wrap her friend in her protection, go knock some sense into Therese and beat the living daylights out of Harge.  Instead, she did all she could do.</p><p>”I love you, Carol.</p><p>”I know.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Therese</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry about the repetition of my lengthy end note from the first chapter.  I’m totally winging this posting. I’m just thrilled that it’s working at all.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The cab pulled up in front of Phil’s apartment building. Therese was the first one out followed by the raucous party that had gotten started in the cab.  If anyone was paying attention while they stormed the entry stairs they would have seen Therese with her head down wandering slowly around the building’s entrance.</p><p>”Belivet, get yourself up here!” yelled Dannie from an upstairs window. Therese looked up and smiled at her friend.  The first appearance of her dimples in a long time.  She made her way up the stairs, took a deep breath and braced herself for an introvert’s worst nightmare: a small space crowded with happy people buzzing with liquor and camaraderie.  Over her lifetime of these occasionally required gatherings (required seemed a bit harsh to describe a friend’s party but for Therese her attendance at these sort of gatherings were dues she had to pay to maintain the minimal friendships she had) she had worked out a clever way to navigate the cascades of jovial people and their expectations.  She would slowly walk in a circuitous lap around and amongst the attendees.  She would stop every once in a while by a small cluster and listen in on the conversation. With a nod and a smile she would appear to be involved and punch her ticket for however many of these stops she felt she had to make.</p><p>”Therese, it’s been ages!”</p><p>”I know.”</p><p>”Where have you been?  What have you been up to?”</p><p>~...respond with whatever prepared inanity she decided for tonight...~</p><p>”We have to get together.  Call me!”</p><p>”I will.”</p><p>And so it went.  But tonight was different.  Therese was walking the walk but really she was back at the Ritz replaying every moment with Carol.  She was so taken aback by Carol’s demeanor and vulnerability that her go to coping strategy of dismissing their time together as a fling on Carol’s part was completely rattled.  Therese’s first reaction to the written invitation was a resounding no.  She hadn’t crawled through the longest darkest nights of her soul to go see Carol on a whim.  She had often curled fetal like in her bed and sobbed after calling Carol with no response and even more when she couldn’t call anymore.  She could have blown off the whole invitation by continuing her mantras of Carol’s cavalier dismissal and not gone to the Ritz.  She could have tried to convince herself that Carol was now just cruelly toying with the shop girl who had provided some distraction during a tough time.  But Therese was so tired of coping by rejecting her truth and trying to replace it with explanations that would assuage her pain.  Carol’s vulnerability had tapped into Therese’s truth.  It had crumbled the thin veneer of passing off their time together as Therese not understanding how the New York big city world operated.  She had learned to step back into the protected life she had created.  Only now the protection felt restricting rather than comforting.</p><p>Therese had put in the time she thought was necessary.  Couples were starting to pair off for slow dancing and necking.  She turned to leave when she was approached by a woman she did not know.  She introduced herself as Genevieve and asked Therese her name.  Surprising herself Therese quickly surmised that Genevieve was flirting with her.  She realized she could attract someone and explore new paths that had never occurred to her.  She could be with someone else.  She might even make a life with another person.  She could be committed to someone who wanted her and wanted to share her life.  That shock was the last piece of the Carol puzzle.  Therese now knew as surely as she knew her own name and the color of her hair and eyes and any other thing she could think of that she loved Carol.  She loved Carol and Carol loved her.  There couldn’t be any other person in her life.  There was Carol and that’s all there was.  She didn’t know what “that” was going to look like in the world they inhabited but it didn’t matter. She eased out of Genevieve’s intentions and left to go to the Oak Room. To Carol.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Carol</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Carol placed a cold washrag on her eyes to help relieve some of the puffiness from crying.  She refreshed her makeup, combed her hair, straightened her shoulders and headed for the door to leave for the Oak Room.  She passed by her liquor cabinet and noticed the bottle of Rye sitting on top.  </p><p>“Oh, what the hell.”</p><p>She picked it up and drank straight from the bottle.</p><p>”Promise me you won’t ever do that again” she said to her reflection in the mirror.  She shrugged, turned with a sigh and left the apartment.</p><p>Thirty minutes later Mrs. Carol Ross Aird arrived at the Oak Room.  The Oak Room were ladies lunch and business men schmooze deals.  The club where New York’s finest finishing school graduates and corporate honchos’ favorite sons relaxed in the rarified air of their privilege.  </p><p>The cab ride had given her time to reassemble the required visage and manners for this exclusive club.  She could do this.</p><p>Mrs. Aird had years as Mr. Aird’s wife to practice and perfect the social protocols.  She knew the smile, the nod, the tilt of the head to indicate interest.  So tonight, even though she was with distant friends, she had to rely on her skill set to get through the evening.  She kept a slight smile in place, eyes swept the table and nodded at larghissimo pace.  She made it through the required courses of a fine dining experience and was settling into after dinner drinks when one of her head sweeps came to an abrupt stop.  Therese.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Therese</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Therese was surprised at how calm she felt.  The realization of no longer wanting or needing to be at war with herself over Carol had brought a solidity and peace she had never known. She felt she had stepped over a threshold into another state of being.  Her experiences, memories, interests, hopes...all of it was coming together to form a person who had seemed so disjointed before.  She was Therese Belivet who expressed herself through photography.  She was Therese Belivet who loved Carol Aird.  She had things to say and passions to share.  She didn’t know what the world’s reception would be but that wouldn’t change who she was. The trill she felt in her heart and the excitement in her chest spurred her up the stairs to the Oak Room.</p><p>The maitre ‘d’s attempt to interrupt her mission was swept aside without a glance.  Her eyes were like machetes trying to clear a path the the jungle of seated and wandering men.  Finally, she saw a glimpse of golden hair.  Carol.  She walked towards her love.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Carol and Therese</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Carol murmured something to her friends and rose to meet Therese.</p><p>”You came.”</p><p>”Yes.”</p><p>”Do you want to...”</p><p>”Carol, I can’t do this.”</p><p>Carol felt the floor give way.  Surely Therese didn’t come here to do this. She wasn’t cruel.</p><p>As Carol’s face began to crumble Therese quickly continued.</p><p>”I can’t do this.  Dinner with your friends.  Making small talk with strangers when you’re right there and all I want is to be alone with you.  Will you come to my apartment when you’re done here? So we can talk?”</p><p>It was Carol’s turn to be stunned. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Carol and Therese cont.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Carol knocked and Therese answered. She leaned against the door frame and remembered acold wintry night when Carol had stood here in all of her resplendent red bearing gifts. That night Therese’s brain had been a whirling dervish of questions, anxieties, and desires that made no sense. Tonight they were both battle tested, scared and healing. Therese’s mind and heart were in complete alignment as to who she was and what she wanted. Carol was teetering on a hopeful high wire trying to calm her racing heart.</p><p>“Come in.Let me take your coat and bag.I’ll just put them in my bedroom.”</p><p>Carol shrugged out of her coat and walked toward the living room.</p><p>“Would you like something to drink?Maybe some hot tea?”</p><p>“That would be nice.”</p><p>Therese filled the kettle with water and placed it on the burner of her stove.She was gathering cups, teabags and honey when Carol said, “something’s different with your apartment.You've painted.I like it.It’s a lovely shade of blue.”</p><p>“Yes.I needed something fresh.Something different.Dannie helped me paint.”</p><p>Therese paused and then said “the color reminded me of the sky some days on our trip.”</p><p>Therese turned to see Carol wedged into the corner created by the bookcase and wall. In spite of her regal height she looked small and vulnerable with her eyes downcast fidgeting with her bracelet.Therese turned the burner under the kettle off and walked toward Carol. When she was within a breath of her Therese placed her hands on Carol’s forearms. She waited until Carol met her eyes. </p><p>“Carol, don’t you know I love you so? In spite of the fact that it looks impossible and unrealistic the universe has decided we were made for each other. Carol, I’m not fully me without you.”</p><p>Then Therese made the boldest statement she ever had or ever would.</p><p>“And Carol, you are not fully you without me.”</p><p>Carol’s eyes filled with tears as she wrapped her long arms around Theres’s slender shoulders and pulled her close. Therese reciprocated with her arms around Carol’s waist.</p><p>Carol sighed a slight smile and placed her cheek on the top of Therese’s head. Without another word they both knew they had entered their hearts’ home. </p><p> </p><p>C’est fini.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Editorial comment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sorry, this is not another chapter. That muse has left the building for now.ETA for returning is definitely, completely unknown.As I said before, I am so totally winging this.I don’t know Rich Text from HTML.The RT looked easier so I went with that.I was sure when I hit the post button that a scrambled mess would appear on line and me and my ukulele would have to go into hiding.☺️I wanted the End note to be after Chapter 1 but it ended up after Chapter 7 with an explanatory Beginning note before Chapter 3.Oy vey! 🤨 </p><p>Anyway, this was fun even though I’ve turned into Pavlov’s dog wagging my tail and yipping when a comment comes through. 😂</p><p>Win, I tried to leave you a golden ticket for the first spot in the comment line 😉.</p><p>Thanks again for your patience in reading my little missive about our favorite ladies.Take care.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’ve heard it said that everyone has at least one book in them. I personally have always doubted that for myself. I figured maybe a couple of paragraphs.  An essay at best. Then our French Lady stirred the fandom pot and it was all asses over elbows. (A southern country term indicating things being churned up. 😳) Something about reading her self revelatory expositions about the many facets of her Carol journey awoke or rattled the cage of some muse somewhere who set their sights on me.  An idea came and determinedly would not let go.  Different scenarios came in and out of my consciousness for a few days and then it was time to put keyboard to screen. When I began to write, although there were times I felt more like a scribe, the format was immediately known and the words followed. I would write until the words stopped and then I stopped. Even in this infancy of writing I knew not to try to push beyond whatever was coming freely. After a break of a few hours the next influx of April 17th would arrive. Over three days these thoughts came to fruition and there was never a doubt (trepidation yes) I would post it.  So my fellow fandomers (?) I lay this before you. Make of it what you will.  Comments, up down and sideways are welcome. Constructive criticism is especially welcome.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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